Life Is Death
by TrainReckx
Summary: Has Deidara finally lost it? No he is simply opening the world's eyes... Dark/Bloody


I'm bored and need to practice writing horror and angst. Bloody I'm only warning you one more time.

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**Deidara's POV**

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A hooded man with a long unhidden sword walked down the dirt road, his face hidden by the darkness that surrounded him. He smiled sadistically before tearing a merchant to shreds with his old rusted weapon.

_People used to call me mad they said I was insane.What's that word my therapist used to describe me? Disturbed I believe is the word he used._

The blonde walked down the dark silent road slashing another victim's head off. This startled some passer bys, but they were too slow in making their escape. Blood was all over Deidara's hooded cloak. He simply looked at their corpses faces that showed utter horror, and smiled once again. Slowly he continued to follow the dirt road that was soon to be stained with blood of the innocent.

_I simply know more than others. I know what real art is, a moment of beauty, even if it's just a split second. _

_As soon as we are born we are destined to die._

Smiling grimly before pulling out an old match, the psychopath lit it and carelessly tossed it at a home.

Instead of the fire spreading slowly, the building was completely alit within minutes. He's planned this for a while such a well thought plan included spreading gasoline on the roofs of many houses.

Soon everyone was awake and aware of the danger they were in. Men ran up to Deidara trying to take the lunatic down. Their efforts were in vain; he was prepared for this not expecting anyone to stand by as he destroy their lives. Decapitated heads were all over the ground along with fresh corpses. Deidara inhaled the scent of terror and the smoke from the spreading fire; taking sleeping souls every minute.

_Art that lasts only for a few moments, the moment that someone realizes they are going to dye; the last breath someone takes to scream their pitiful plead for mercy._

_Art has no mercy._

Deidara continued to smile as he cut threw person after person; taking delight in the screams of misery some gave of when he missed fatal areas. The burnt remains of young parents who were sleeping peacefully with their kin. The corpses of what seemed to be hundreds of men that tried to protect their village from certain doom.

Ignoring the blood and dirt on his clothes and face, Deidara laughed the most sinister laugh he could pull off.

_The chaos in the air! How I love the very few beautiful moments of life before death puts an end to my art. Life and death is one of the best ways to express my art._

_Nothing lives forever; what better way to end it all than realizing what life and death truly is._

_My art._

The air became thicker and harder to inhale every second. Still people were alive but instead of fighting they are fleeting.

_That's what true art is, fleeting. I will make everyone realize how right my art is even if that means sacrificing this whole village!_

The tainted air echoed the scream of a young woman as Deidara struck her directly in her shoulder with a kunai. Warm blood slowly oozed out of her, and her eyes began to fill with pain, fear, and tears. Quickly he pulled out the kunai that was covered in scarlet blood.

The woman fell to the ground, dead. Again pulling out a match, Deidara lit another set of buildings into flames. He never stopped smiling his grim horrible smile. The once beautiful and peaceful dirt road was now covered with corpses that will be impossible to recognize after the flames swallow them all, and puddles of scarlet blood.

_The greatest thing an artist can do is become his art as a memory that will be remembered by all. Soon I will be one with my art._

Deidara frowned showing the first sign of sorrow he had ever shown while killing for the sake of art.

He search for the kunai he had used earlier to demonstrate the one and only true art. He stood in the middle of his art for a few moments, surrounded by deadly poisons from the fire and the faces that showed the great pain he has caused them. He lifted his head and cut his hair in one swift motion. As if he was trying to cleanse himself from all guilt and sorrow. As soon as most of his golden hair, that was now in a puddle of blood flowing out a young boy that sadly wasn't fast enough to escape cruel fate, touched the ground Deidara smiled once again even more sadistic than the last.

_Soon people from all over will hear about the greatest massacre of history. They will soon realize…_

Deidara pulled out his one and only bomb he took on this last mission, and threw in into the air.

_...That art is a bang!_

Did I fail?

I hope not, this took alot of thought and time to finish.


End file.
